


I've Got A Blank Space, Darling

by fenHarel



Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: F/F, I'll add tags and change the rating as I go, I've yanked certain aspects from His Dark Materials and the basic concept of The Sentinel, this is actually an au melting pool, while making stuff up as I world build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-03 13:22:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2852294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fenHarel/pseuds/fenHarel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if certain people were either Sentinels or Guides? What if they all had daemons? What if Season 2 happened with these factors in play? What if the Warehouse actually brought someone in to talk to Helena after she was reinstated instead of waiting until S4 to bring in someone for that role?</p><p>Or: Wow, my AU creation hobby is getting out of hand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I've Got A Blank Space, Darling

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Typey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Typey/gifts).



> For some background: In HDM canon, it's either implied or Word of God that people who have daemons the same gender as them are queer. While I imagine that wouldn't be the case for everyone, it's caused a bit of a stigma, because people suck. And I never actually bothered to watch The Sentinel, but I saw those dynamics played with over in the Black Hill section of the Marvel fandom, so I really couldn't help but play with it.

"Pete? Pete! Artie says that H.G. Wells is actually-"

Myka came around the corner with Athena at her heels, only to pause at the sight of her partner being held at Tesla-point by the woman he had been flirting with earlier and his daemon being held under the paws of...a dragon? _Was there ever any case of anyone who wasn’t a Caretaker having a mythological creature as a daemon?_ She traded a glance with Athena, the snow leopard taking the slight cue from Myka, before slowly beginning to prowl around the edge of the room. Myka was aware that the conversation was still going and even that she was participating in it but her primary concern was the Tesla being pointed at Pete's chin and how Diesel was still trying to flap her wings to get out from under that black dragon's paws.

The dragon seemed more than content to focus on toying with Diesel so when Myka saw the opportunity, all she needed was a momentary glance at Athena before distracting H.G. long enough for Pete to create some distance between him and H.G. as Athena pounced and knocked the dragon off of the crow it was holding captive. The  snow leopard and dragon wrestled as Wells kicked Pete in the face, but the dragon was pinned by Athena as Myka pulled  a gun on H.G.

"I, on the other hand, have no problem with shooting one." There was no hesitation from Myka, only the willingness to pull the trigger on the one willing to kill her Sentinel.

"I see we've come to an impasse. Since you have me at gun point, would you be kind enough to ask your daemon off of mine?" She smiled at Myka, an almost flirtatious air about her. Myka could feel that call to her, could recognize her as a Sentinel; her eyes  widened as she tried to shut down that bone deep call to be this woman's Guide, she had a duty to Pete and not this ambiguously malevolent woman in front of her. The smirk that gently curled H.G.'s mouth let Myka know that this woman very clearly knew what she was feeling, and Myka did her best to slip into her work mindset and ignore the tug to her.

With a quick flick from her hand, Athena removed herself from the dragon and dropped into a quiet crouch as she continued to watch it. Pete headed back into the study with his daemon fluttering uncomfortably on his shoulder, and Myka motioned for Wells to follow him. The dragon growled, the sound causing Athena's ears to flatten against her head, and Helena sighed indulgently as she shook her head.

"Now, now,  Lucretia. For now, they've bested us, and that means following their orders. I've still no desire to experience being shot, as I imagine that guns are rather more...efficient than they were before." Lucretia grumbled, displeased with the turn of events, but largely unwilling to waste the breath needed to argue with Helena. They both followed Pete into the study, and after Pete had cuffed her to the chair, Myka watched with wide eyes as Lucretia curled herself around the base of the chair. She was only a little larger than Athena, but that's not what caught Myka's attention.

H.G. Wells, beloved author, apparent inventor, and a woman with what had to be one of the most brilliant minds ever recorded... _had a daemon that was the same gender as her_ , if the name and what Myka could hear of her voice was anything to go by. Pete's eyes flicked up to Myka and then to Athena as he heard Lucretia grumbling, coming to the same realization that she had. Her jaw flexed as she shook her head, and moved from her place by the desk to directly in front of Wells and holstered her service gun as Pete tensed in that way he does when he gets worked up over things.

"You know, it was just _rude_!" Pete's voice was full of indignation, and Diesel cawed in agreement. Helena mused over how Pete's one redeeming quality seemed to be that at least his daemon didn't seem particularly chatty. Neither did Myka's, but from what Helena could see, that seemed to be more of a habit forced upon Myka and her daemon, if the way the leopard twitched and the glances they shared was anything to judge by. "I thought English people were supposed to be polite!" Helena blinked slowly, her head shaking slightly with disbelief over how pitiful Warehouse agent standards seem to have become if this is what they were using now.

"Why are you protecting James MacPherson?" Myka was blunt and to the point, and Helena watched with interest as her daemon took a position to her left. It wasn't quite in front of Myka, but just enough so to leap at her if the need arose, and it sparked a sense of curiosity in Helena. "He tried to kill the both of us, and believe me, he will turn on you." Myka's hand was moving in gestures that she was obviously keeping in check, and Helena couldn't help but think it adorable as she worked her cuffs with some aid from Lucretia's tail.

"Don't they all?" The distaste was thick in H.G's voice, and Lucretia's laughter was low as smoke rose from her maw. Athena twitched her tail twice against Myka's leg, but Myka shook her head almost imperceptibly at her.

"Who?" Diesel couldn't help but ask, her feathers puffing with her own distaste as dislike for H.G. was written across Pete's face.

"Men, eventually. Neanderthals." Lucretia almost purred, and Pete and Myka's attention dropped back down to the dragon as she flexed her claws in an almost absent-minded and bored fashion. There was a flash of something metallic around her paws, but Myka wrote it off as being something to accommodate her walking to help avoid her claws digging into the ground. The dark, almost golden yellow of her underside caught Myka's attention until she felt a tail whip once against the back of her knees. "And you have no idea how tempting an owl joke is right now."

"You know, for someone who's been unconcious for 100 years, you've really held on to some anger." Myka turned away from Pete's over the top display, being fairly well versed in what was genuine distress versus his theatrics. She knew she was largely blessed with a mostly balanced Sentinel for a partner, and she knew that turning away for the moment to try and collect herself with what's happened so far. Athena tucked her tail close to her body to allow her human the space to pace in a circle, she could recognize the signs of stress as if they were lit up with neon lights.

"Not unconscious. Just immobile." There was something that passed across Helena's face, and Lucretia's tail thumped against her hands to remind her to keep what she could boxed away.

"Oh right-what?" H.G.'s comment threw Pete for a loop, and horror was immediate. "What? You mean, while you're bronzed, you're _awake_?" His voice broke part way through, and Helena did what she could to school her expression, looking down to Lucretia to drawn strength from her daemon.

Myka felt horrified as well, but she knew she couldn't afford to show it, and kept her voice as even and business like as she could lest she give away more of her inner turmoil. "We didn't know that."

"It offers a lady time to think." _To think, to dream, to go mad, and to plan_  is what thought danced across her mind. But Helena knew things like that should not, could not be said in front of these agents, or to anyone other than Lucretia in a lonely room where she knew no one was listening.

"So what did you come here for?" Myka knew that vibes were Pete's thing, but Athena whipped her tail into her calf three times to signal that something was going to go down hill, and she knew better than to distrust her daemon like that.

"Yeah, look, you either tell us what and where it is, or watch us tear this whole place apart looking for it." Pete's vibes had a distinctly bad feeling to them, and he wasn't sure what was causing them, but Myka was his Guide and he knew that she was directing the conversation back to where it needed to go with good reason. Pete watched as Myka and H.G. practically had a whole conversation in a few short looks, and as Athena growled warningly at Lucretia and as the dragon blew out some smoke in a huffy response. He couldn't help but wonder if that was some sort of girl superpower, because it had taken him and Myka way longer to be able to say half of what those looks said with words, let alone without them.

"Pull out the second drawer down  on the right." Pete pulled out his Tesla and kept it pointed at H.G. as Myka moved to the desk and Athena moved into a flat eared crouch while still maintaining eye contact with Lucretia. "Empty it out. Turn it over. Pull out the panel on the back." Myka fluidly followed the instructions, and pulled out the old fashioned key from the hiding spot the drawer concealed.

"What's this?" Myka glanced at the key before making eye contact with Wells, who would have rolled her eyes if it wasn't mostly against her upbringing.

"Go over to the bottom set of shutters.” Myka and Pete moved to stand by each shutter, and waited briefly. “Grasp the top, inner vents on each side and close them, simultaneously.”

They looked at each other, and Pete started counting. “Un, deux, trois.”

“ _Et voila_.” Helena’s tone was almost mirthful, and Lucretia snorted as she shifted her paws underneath her body. The secret panel opened, and the two agents moved to examine what was behind it. “That will show you the hiding place Mr. MacPherson had so much trouble locating.” She watched as they exchanged a look, before Myka murmured a ‘here we go’ and turned the key. Helena’s head turned towards the hidden door that opened before looking back to the two agents. Only a little longer before this facade can end was what kept her patient and in her chair.

“Hey-o! Put za candle back!” Myka’s expression of wonder dropped into disbelief over Pete’s ridiculousness, and his attempt to wave it off as “Young Frankenstein” didn’t seem to change her mind on it.

“Ohhh-kay, just keep me covered Pete.” Myka moved with Athena, and Helena followed their movements closely. It didn’t take her very long at all to come back out of the room with two steampunk looking vests in her arms and a look of triumph written across her face as she walked back to Pete’s side. “So, do you want to tell us about this?”

Helena couldn’t help the smile that graced her face. “They’re family heirlooms.”

“Right, why did MacPherson want it?” Pete just wanted this part to be over so he could talk to Myka, and he had a little hope that Wells might actually make it that simple since she had cooperated thus far.

“I have no idea.” She was still trying to smother a smile, and rather poorly at that. _I hope this lady never played poker in her day_. Pete sighed and Diesel flapped around the room before returning to his shoulder. Right, this is the Warehouse that he worked for. _Why would anything be so simple_?

Myka was standing by the desk again and examining the vest when she called for his attention. “Pete, the wiring on the vests matches the wiring on the switch.” She pointed to draw his attention, and he followed her lead.

“Yeah, the wiring on the vest matches the wiring on the switch!”

“That has nothing to do with the vests.” Lucretia made herself known again, standing up as she stretched herself out and Helena let it still be blatantly obvious that she was keeping information from those two.

“Oh, of course we believe you.” Myka’s voice dropped slightly into something that almost sounded dangerous, and her daemon positioned herself between Myka and Helena and Lucretia, and kept a paw on her human’s leg. Myka refused to look down, and with Pete echoing her assertions, she felt satisfaction in finding something to use to distance herself from that siren’s call. She turned to him, ground herself in her commitments, and completely missed the look on H.G.’s face. “Do you want to do the honors?”

“As a matter of fact, I do!” His excitement had an almost negavity energy to it as he turned and reached into the panel to pull the switch down, making sure to keep his Tesla aimed at Wells. After the switch had shocked Myka and Pete, they were hauled onto the ceiling by a force unseen with their daemons.

Pete’s daemon hit the ceiling somewhere above Pete’s head and Helena felt some satisfaction from the discomfort it caused them. But she couldn’t help but notice that Myka’s daemon landed on her back, and the sound that Myka made didn’t sound particularly good. She knew it was nothing she needed to concern herself with, so she focused on how she could finally get out of that blasted chair as she looked up them with an almost genuine smile gracing her face. It took them a great effort to pull themselves into a different position, and she felt rather like the cat who got the cream.

“Oh, what the hell?” Pete groaned; it had sounded like Myka had said something as well, but it was garbled and hard to tell.

Helena stood up, and waved the cuffs in front of her. “Thank goodnesss these things haven’t changed much.” Gloating wasn’t very proper, but she’d never been particularly proper to begin with.

“How come you’re not affected? Your daemon isn’t affected, either!” Frustration was clear as day in Myka’s voice, and she couldn’t help but think of it as something that was almost...charming.

“Magnetic boots for myself and magnetic bands that attach to Lucretia's paws, specially made.”.

“Right, that explains why my head still hurts.” Pete tried to joke, working through the increasing headache. “Guess we know now why they Bronzed you, huh?”

“Don’t speculate upon things about which you know nothing!” Any and all amusement vanished as H.G. snapped at them, Lucretia hissing at them from around her legs.

“Oooo, there’s that anger again.” At this point, Pete figured that antagonizing the clear bad guy in this situation probably couldn’t hurt.

“Well, there must be some reason why they Bronzed you.” Myka tried to be reasonable, but she could feel Athena’s angry look on her and H.G.’s look was something that could only be described as angry...and broken. The call to _balance_ and _fix_ flowed through her, and Myka hoped with everything that she had that if H.G. was going to be a wild card in this century, that she’d find herself a Guide so her bones would stop singing with the desire to truly bond instead of the casual bonds she had previously established.

“The world was a different place.” She looked down, trying to collect herself, before looking back up at them. “A century ago, it was easier to believe in the possibility of a time machine then in the reality that a woman thought one up.” Her words were acidic, the bitterness dripping from them making it almost impossible to listen to it all.

Myka fumbled with her next question, her mind still puzzling itself back out and that collision with the ceiling. “Well, if you wrote those novels, then - then, who is H. G. Wells?”

“My brother Charles is the writer; I supplied the ideas, the research…” She trailed off, looking almost fondly at the picture on the mantle. “...and Charles supplied the mustache.” She shrugged into the vest, making sure she was properly suited up, before standing back up and reaching for her coat.

“Oh, hey, I’m uhm, digging the iron vest, by the way.” Pete started, his own anger starting to show itself.

“It brings out your eyes.” Diesel finished, apparently done with her silence.

“Who’s angry now?” She donned her jacket and left the room with Lucretia in tow, a final smirk on her face.

“Well...that probably could have gone better if literally _anyone_ had _maybe_ listened to my cues.” Athena spoke up, her disapproval severe enough that even made Diesel squawk uncomfortably.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'll be updating this weekly, to make up for not being able to toss it up in a 40k chunk. Losing like 60 thousand words in a couple gift fics as I was trying to back them up has made this one of the most stressful holidays that I've gone through, yet. It's largely following the episodes until maybe halfway through the season?


End file.
